Left Behind
by frk-werewolf
Summary: AU. In the midst of the Artic, Wesley WyndhamPryce and his crew make a discovery that could change humanity's understanding of the past and each other forever. Spander. WesleyGunn. OzTara.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Left Behind 1/?

Author: frkwerewolf

Fandom: Buffy

Pairing: Spander, Wesley/Gunn UST, Oz/Tara

Rating: R

Summary: AU. In the midst of the Artic, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and his crew make a discovery that could change humanity's understanding of the past and each other forever.

Notes: This story is inspired by and based off of a French book called _The Ice People_ by Rene Barjavel, written in the late sixties and translated into English in 1970. I highly recommend this book if you can find it.

* * *

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce would never be able to explain what happened that summer. This was not becuase he did not have all of the facts or because he was not there at the time of activity. No, Wesley would never be able to describe the events becuase what had happened there, in the middle of Antartica, was so private and emotional that he could not bare the thought of tainting the events by allowing others to hear.

The project was a collaboration between the countries of the world. With the world's resources dwindling every second of every day, those in power were concerned not only for their people but for the world's economy. It was no secret that the majority of the world's leaders were involved in the oil industry and, because of the fact that oil was becomming less and less reliable, were scared of their own chance at bankruptcy.

It was because of this that the United Nations created a team of multi-national men and women to search the Antartic for new forms of fuel.

Wesley was from Britain, born and raised in an upper class family. He had been sent to the best schools available and knew nearly everything there was to know on chemical and industrial engineering.

Charles Gunn, who sat to Wesley's right, was a tall, dark man from Africa. He spoke English as well as any person who had been raised on it did and, upon meeting Wesley, immediately launched into what could only be described as a campaign to get Wesley to blush. Wesley had to admit he liked the man, who not only was consistantly smiling but who understood world languages more than anyone he had ever met. Technically, Charles--or rather, Gunn, as he insisted on being called--was to be their main translator, but he had confided in Wesley that he had a better idea in mind. Wesley wasn't sure what he meant, but he suppose he'd learn soon enough.

Buffy Summers was a perky young woman from America that not only held up the concept that Americans were full of themselves, but the idea that looks were very decieving. She sat across from Wesley, smacking on a piece of gum, completely oblivious to the world around her. Yet, Wesley knew from the report he had recieved that she was the best computer technichian they could have.

Next to Buffy was Daniel Osbourne, a quiet young man that had thus far spoke only long enough to isist they all call him Oz. He was originally from America, but had spent so much time in the depths of southeast Asia that he had gained citizenship there quite some time ago. Oz was the resident mathematician, though he was the strangest math geek that Wesley had ever seen. He looked more like a punk rocker than anything.

Oz leaned to his left, hand reaching out to trail along the soft arm of the woman sitting next to him. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied, her soft accent from Eastern Europe catching Wesley momentarily off guard. She smiled, softly and gently, at her husband. "It was the plane ride, that's all."

Tara McClay-Osbourne was Oz's wife of three years. She was the most soft spoken woman Wesley had ever met and her touch, upon shaking her hand, told him why she had been chosen as the group's medic. He had heard from Gunn that Tara had been throwing up that very morning. He was certain it was the climate change. He, himself, had arrived at the selected one in Antartica merely two days before and had berely been able to get out of bed.

Wesley fought down a yawn and glanced briefly out the window. They were in the small, but durable, building that resided over the ice. A mere elevator ride down was all it took to reach the depths of the building, hidden underneath layer and layer of ice. Everything but the conference room and a small office that allowed them to connect to the outside world was downstairs.

Wesley looked up as a two women strode into the room. The first, with bright red hair and a brilliant smile, was Willow Rosenburg, from Russia. Willow was a mechanical engineer and would work with Wesley to ensure all of the equipment was working smoothly.

The other woman was Cordelia Chase, from New Zealand. Cordelia gave off the air, much like Buffy did, that she wasn't very intelligent. Wesley knew better. Cordelia was the world's leading anthropologist and archeologist. It had seemed strange, at first, to have someone of her skill on the team. Yet, Cordelia made it very clear upon meeting him that her job was to make sure they didn't dig into something that could turn out to be the archeological find of the century. She was, essentially, there to make sure the intellectuals of the world didn't fuss too much.

Willow and Cordelia sat down near Buffy just as the last member of the team entered the room, a stack of folders in his hand. Lindsey McDonald was dressed in a business suit which clearly portrayed his job: lawyer. Wesley really wasn't quite sure what to think of Lindsey, he appeared to be a bit of an enigma. However, it was his job to make sure that everything that was done under the ice didn't break any laws. Lindsey had been born and raised in the American south, but spent a good portion of his time in Latin America and spoke the native languages there even more fluently than he did English.

The language barrier wasn't as strong as Wesley had thought it would be. The majority of them could speak some English, if they were fluent in it. The problem came in the thick accents this language was often speaking in. When Wesley had greeted Oz the man had spoke rapidly, with a swing in his voice that made Wesley do a doubletake. That and the fact that the minor workers that where downstairs at the moment all spoke different languages was why they needed Gunn.

"First things first," Lindsey announced, handing out the folders, "it appears Mr. Gunn has an announcement to make."

"With some help from Buffy I managed to get my little project up and fully functional," Gunn anounced, grinning. He reached under the table and pulled out a thick metal box. "I need all of you to place this in your ear."

We followed the order, trusting Gunn enough to know it wasn't some prank. The earpiece was small and comfortable on his ear. He turned and looked at Gunn, who immediately launched into a grand speech in Swahili. Wesley blinked, his jaw dropping open as the ear piece began speaking in a clear, British accent, translating everything that Gunn was saying.

"How in the hell did you manage this?" Cordelia demanded, pulling the earpiece out and staring at it.

"It's a simply process of getting a computer to understand the basics of language development," Gunn said with a shrug. Cordelia frowned, thinking about that as he placed the ear piece back in her ear. Across the table, Buffy was smiling smugly. "That and a little help from the resident computer nerd."

"I'm not a nerd," Buffy immediately protested.

"That's enough of that," Lindsey interrupted. "I see those who have just arrived at getting adjusted well. This is a three year project, broken into eight month intervals. You'll be spending the next eight months with each other, so do the world a favour and get along."

Wesley, having already heard all of the details of the project, reached over and pulled the folder toward him. He flipped it open, immediately recognizing the graphing images from a computer.

"Now, as much as I had hoped this will go smoothly, we have a problem," Lindsey admitted, stiffly, "Cordelia, perhaps you should begin."

"Right," Cordelia agreed, standing. "What you're seeing on the first page is the digital readout from one of our computers. The computer is connected to one of the machines we've been using to search under the ice, making sure we don't hit anything too strong for our drills to handle. What you're seeing there? That's not metal and it's not oil."

"What is it?" Buffy asked.

"If you'll turn the page you'll notice it has a distinct square like shape," Cordelia continued. "Ladies and gentlement, what we're looking at is an underground building."

"I don't want to sound like the stupid one here, but huh?" Willow piped up, looking confused.

"To be quite honest, that's what I'm thinking as well," Cordelia admitted. "There are no records of a civilization that lived here long enough to build a city on this continent. Of course, it's reasonable to say that the reason for no records is becuase no one has really bothered to look too hard, but the fact remains...I have no clue as to what that is. All I know is it looks like a building readout to me."

"It's large," Oz commented, "like the size of a shopping mall."

"What does this mean for us?" Wesley asked. "Does this effect the project any?"

"Possibly," Lindsey said. "At the moment the U.N. is meeting on the topic and trying to decide if we should continue. Until then we'll keep drilling."

"We will, however, be moving a few of the drills so we don't hit whatever the hell's down there," Cordelia stated. "While this could be an amazing find, if we damage it in any way we'll be in big trouble with more than one country."

"That's all for today," Lindsey announced.

Wesley picked up the folder, fliping through all of the information of the so-called building below them. He stood, pushing his chair back into place before heading for the elevator. Gunn, Oz, and Tara joined him on the way down. Tara and Oz remained in the corner of the elevator, Tara's face slightly freen from the downward motion.

As Wesley stepped into the hallway a few members of the small drilling team passed by him, speaking in their native tongue. Wesley was amazed to hear their words translated into his ear and couldn't help but turn to Gunn. "This invention of yours is amazing."

"Yeah, well, I try," Gunn replied with a wide grin. "Do you have any plans for this evening?"

"I have to check the with my team to make sure the shift the drill coordinates properly, but otherwise I'm free. Why?" Wesley replied.

"I was just asking," Gunn said with a smirk.

"You're planning something, aren't you?" Wesley stated, not at all shocked by the concept of Gunn being mischievious.

"Well, you see, I have to moniter the language program this evening," Gunn told him, "and I was thinking I could really do with some company from a visually appealing individual such as yourself."

Wesley felt a dull blush start at the base of his throat and fought to keep it down. "I suppose that could be a fascinating oppurtunity to see the fruits of your labor in action."

Gunn's grin was slow in starting. "Yeah, English, something like that."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

* * *

Wesley's eyes opened to reveal a dark room. He remained still and silent, waiting to see what had awoken him. The sound of a soft knock caught his ears. Wesley pushed himself to his feet, grabbing the language translator off of his bedside table before stumbling over to the door. "Yes?"

"Sir, they've called a head of staff meeting," the man told him. Wesley rubbed at one eyes and nodded, grabbing his robe. If they wanted a meeting in the middle of the night, they would have to deal with him in just his robe and pajamas.

He leaned against the wall of the elevator, half-asleep, as he made his way to the first floor. Everyone else was present and Wesley was the last to slide into his seat. Cordelia stood at the front of the room, her hair a mess and her clothing from the day before wrinkled. It looked as though she had not slept since they're last meeting a week before. She looked up to see everyone there and cleared her throat.

"We've received an order from the U.N. about our little problem below the ice," Cordelia announced.

"I'm thinking it's not so good," Buffy commented. Wesley glanced at her and fought the urge to roll his eyes at her choice of sleepwear. The skimpy silk nightgown was the exact reason for her to be huddled up and shivering.

"If we were a full team of archeologist, I assure you we would all be jumping for joy," Cordelia said. "We have been given permission, which was quite obviously an order, to keep drilling as originally planned. I've plotted the drilling's course and discovered that one drill leads to a slight alteration in the building below. It looks to be a door. Once we hit that door, we'll suit up and investigate. If we find anything of actual use, then this entire project will be cancelled and a full archeological excavation team will be assembled."

"Wait, you mean to say we have to realign the drills to where they were originally?" Wesley demanded.

"It would take another week just to get them on course!" Willow insisted.

"That is just something we're going to have to deal with," Lindsey stated, voice cool and collected. "We all have our orders from our respected countries to deal with this project in a certain manner, only to change position if ordered by the United Nations."

"We're quite aware of the contracts that we signed going into this," Wesley said, "but to shift course with these drills is massive work. The drilling teams have just now been able to sleep full nights because of the last realignment."

"Unless there are any other questions, I suggest we all get some sleep," Lindsey said, standing.

Wesley could see the expressions of disbelief in the drill operators' faces the next morning when he gave them the order to change position, yet again. Sighing in frustration, Wesley left them to do their job and went in search of something to eat. Gunn met him along the way, chatting on and on about some glitch in his language program.

The next week was filled with yet more sleepless nights for Wesley's team members, but once the drills were finally realigned, Wesley allowed himself a moment of comfort. Gunn was nowhere to be seen, having finally located what was wrong with his program. The man had been locked up with the computers, calling in a few people for language testing, for a few days.

"How is Tara?" Wesley asked Oz when the younger man entered the cafeteria a week after the drills were fully realigned.

"She threw up this morning," Oz commented in that soft tone of his.

"Still?" Wesley asked, frowning. Oz looked at him, green eyes thoughtful but not revealing anything. Wesley said nothing more, knowing Oz wasn't the type to reveal everything unless it was necessary.

"Have you seen Cordelia?" Oz finally asked.

"She's locked up in her office," Wesley replied. "Gunn is doing the same, actually. It's amazing how little of each other we actually see, considering how small our living quarters are."

"Hmm," Oz nodded. Oz pulled a small bag of crackers out of one of the cabinets and began making tea. Wesley remained silent, watching as Oz worked. When the man was finished, he glanced at Wesley and said something in Chinese. Wesley's translator crackled, before finally relaying the message. "I'll see you later."

Wesley rubbed at the ear the translator had been placed, before standing to discard of his meal.

As the drills buried themselves deep within the artic ice, the days for the team seemed to blend together. The only daylight they saw was when they ventured up to the first floor, but that wasn't often. Then, one day, Wesley found himself being woken up at three in the morning, one of his night employees insisting he come to the computer console.

"What's going on?" Wesley asked as he entered the room. Buffy sat in front of the computer, eyes glued to the screen. A video monitor was playing. It took Wesley a moment to realize it was from the drilling machine. Wesley took a step closer until he stood next to Gunn. "What is that?"

"They're doors," Cordelia said, voice soft. "Fuck all, I was actually right."

"They're at least five feet wide," Oz commented with barely a glance at the screen. Next to him sat Tara, whose eyes were partially closed.

"We've got to go in," Lindsey informed them. He turned toward Cordelia, "You've been given the order to pick the team."

"I'll need Oz," Cordelia immediately said, "if only for his ability to measure distance with a blink of an eye. It's pretty deep in there and pretty damn cold, so if Tara is able I want her with us just in case."

"I can go," Tara replied, pushing herself to her feet.

"Alright, let's go suit up," Cordelia ordered. "I want to get down there as soon as possible."

Wesley watched them leave, before sliding into one of the now vacant chairs. Gunn sat down on the ground near him, fighting down a yawn as they waited. Wesley wasn't sure why he was so anxious all of a sudden. He shifted in his seat, a feel of unease coming over him. For some reason, Wesley had feeling that this was going to be big.

Soon, the screen flickered and they all waited on baited breath and the frozen doors were pried open. The room that was revealed looked more like a high-tech facility of the future than something from an ancient civilization. Intricate designs were one the ice covered walls, but mostly there was the basic designs of computer equipment imbedded into the walls.

"Damn, that's some expensive stuff right there," Buffy muttered, eyes wide.

It became obvious that Oz was holding the camera as Cordelia stepped into the room with Tara right behind her. A sharp intake of breath could be heard across the room as the camera revealed what looked like two metal alters. Upon the altars were two figures, both men with helmets covering their faces. The men were perfectly formed; their muscular form visible even through the grainy computer image. Both, due to the rapid freezing their body must have undergone, were hard, their erect penises standing at attention. Wesley felt himself blush.

"Guys?" Tara's soft voice was heard over the computer's speakers. Wesley jumped in shock, having forgotten that they should have been able to hear the three all along. Tara stepped over to one of the figures. Tara inspected the computer equipment next to the body, raising a hand to rub off a tiny screen. Tara looked up at Oz, and as a result the camera. Her pale gray eyes were wide with shock. "I think he's still alive."

"There's no way!" Willow exclaimed.

Wesley shook his head. Medicine wasn't his forte, but he didn't think a man could survive being frozen like that.

"I think we need Buffy in here," Tara said, turning to look at the camera. "She should look at these computer programs."

"Ugh, I hate putting on those suits," Buffy complained, loudly. Yet, she was already standing up and heading for the door.

Wesley remained where he was, watching the screen, staring at the frozen figures. Where had they come from? There was no way the technology that was present in the room could be old. It was advanced, far too advanced. Wesley leaned forward, eyes narrowed as Oz filmed the room in a slow circle.

"Stop," Wesley ordered. The camera stopped. "What is that?"

"Looks like a box," Oz's voice offered. The camera moved closer to the box sitting on a low table. "It's got a lid."

"We'll bring it up," Cordelia called over. Buffy had arrived and was inspecting the computer consoles attached to the tables the men lay on. There was a sound of surprise from Buffy's microphone. "Don't keep it to yourself."

"Let's just say that Tara is good for more than her pretty face," Buffy said. The camera shook a little and Oz made a vaguely pissed off sound. Wesley had to smile. No one insulted Tara, even if it was in jest, while Oz was in hearing distance. Buffy continued, "These machines have been keeping their bodies alive. They're frozen, yeah, but according to this all you have to do is press this little red button on each computer and they'll wake up."

"It's that simple?" Willow asked. Buffy turned to look at the camera and shrugged inside her suit, which was obviously too big for her. Wesley wondered if she had grabbed one of theirs in her excitement to get down there.

"So it says," Buffy replied. "Hell, for all I know pressing that button will blow the place sky high."

"That's refreshing," Lindsey muttered, before speaking up. "Okay, just bring up that box and we'll send for confirmation with the U.N."

The box was sent to Wesley and Willow to investigate. They found nothing, not even a way to open it. Willow continued inspecting it throughout the night, but Wesley wasn't that hopeful. He awoke the next morning to find Willow fast asleep in their office, the box till intact. As he left the room, preparing to grab Willow some coffee before he woke her up, Gunn grabbed his arm and began dragging him in the opposite direction.

"What is the meaning--" Wesley began.

"We just got a message from the U.N.," Gunn announced, "and guess what? We've got confirmation. It has to be recorded and documented, but we can thaw out one of the guys downstairs."

"Just one?" Wesley asked.

"Just one," Gunn said. "Buffy and Tara have been scanning the computers below for information on their status. We're going with the bigger guy, because apparently the other one was injured before frozen. He might not survive the defrosting."


End file.
